I sat within the valley green 
I sat me with my [bad word] love. 
My sad heart strove the two between 
The old love and the new love. 
The old for her the new 
That made me think on Ireland dearly. 
While soft the wind blew down the glade 
And shook the golden barley. 
T'was sad I kissed away her tears
My fond arm round her flinging. 
When a foe, man's shot burst on our ears 
>From out the wild woods ringing. 
bullet pierced my [bad word] love's side 
In live's young spring so early. 
And on my breast in blood she died 
While soft winds shook the barley.